Chapter 31 Chase
Chase
Ten seconds later, I’m plowing through the bathroom door with a handful of painkillers chucked at the back of my throat.
I cup my palm under the running faucet, gulping greedily from my hand as I tip my head back, savoring the bitter residue left behind.
The overhead light flickers and drones, sounding like a hornet caught in my ear.
Fuck me.
I lean back against the pedestal sink and look around.
Graffiti lines the dated mauve walls. Sharpie-drawn love notes and Gen Z slang blur at the edges of my vision. Someone wrote “Maddie is a cunt” and added a smiley face to the U.
I stare at it for a long time as shrapnel scrapes behind my eyes and rocket fire shreds my temples.
She said yes.
The woman I’ve unintentionally fallen for is now engaged.
I don’t give the meds time to fix my headache and attempt to bolt from the bathroom—
But the door whips open instead.
A vision of red sweeps inside. Annie hurriedly shuts the door behind her and clicks the lock, chest heaving as her eyes trail to mine across the locker-size bathroom.
What the hell is she doing in here?
Her boyfriend just proposed to her in front of a live audience. He’s probably tearing the place apart looking for her. “What are you doing?”
“Chase.” Her voice splinters with a sharp crack. “I’m so sorry.”
She’s sorry.
She’s always sorry.
And now, more than anything, she has no reason to be.
I droop against the chipped heliotrope-toned sink, pretending it doesn’t match the colored streaks in her hair. “Congratulations, Annie.”
Devastation washes over her face, and it’s not a look I’d expect from a newly engaged woman.
She glances down at the diamond ring glittering on her finger, twirling it in anxious circles like she’s trying to spin doubt into certainty.
“The timing is terrible. I was on the spot and panicked. I-I didn’t know he was going to—”
“It’s okay.” I force my eyes up, force a smile, force this pathetic wave of dejection to dissipate. “It’s okay. I’m happy for you.”
Her head shakes slightly. “What you said before…”
“Doesn’t matter. I had too much whiskey.”
“But…” She swallows, lacing her fingers together, shifting from heel to heel. “Did you mean it?”
“Would it change anything if I did? You already said yes.” Alcohol courses through my blood as I inch up from the sink, taking a step toward her. The light fixture buzzes, sputtering in and out. “Unless that was a maybe.”
She goes still, blinking up at me as the statement registers. “This is so hard.”
“It shouldn’t be hard. Not if you love him.”
A tear zigzags down her cheek, dangling at her jaw. “It’s not that simple.”
My heart is a moving target. I should walk away, charge out the front door, and disappear into the crestfallen night. But I take another step closer. “Why?”
“Because it hurts.” Her face crumples. “I hurt you, and I never wanted to hurt you.”
I stop in front of her as my shoulders sag. “Annie—”
“I just…I’ve built a life with him, Chase,” she says, licking away a salty tear, trying to find an ounce of rationale to cling to. “We’ve been through a lot together. He’s not perfect, but neither am I, and I feel like I need to see this through, stay committed till the end, because—”
“You feel like? Or you want to?” My hand lifts, and I swipe away another tear, my thumb dusting across her skin. Her gaze shutters, jaw tilting into my touch. “There’s a difference.”
Pain coasts across her face. Guilt, sadness, and all the things she shouldn’t be feeling right now with a ring on her finger.
“I know we’ve gotten close,” she says softly.
“And that’s my fault. I dragged you into this when I should have let you be, and I allowed this connection to grow into something bigger, and that’s… that’s not fair. It’s not fair to you.”
My hand falls away. “Life has never been fair to me. Not your fault.”
“I’ve been so selfish.” Her breath stutters, pupils dilating. Everything surges to the surface, and she starts to shake, wrapping her arms around her body to hold it all in.
The last thing I should do is touch her.
But I pull her in anyway.
She flops against me, fragile and breaking, her arms winding around my torso. Tears soak through my T-shirt. I hold her tighter than I should, every nerve in my body screaming at me to let go.
“You should go, Annie,” I whisper into her hair, though my heart doesn’t agree.
She glances up, tear-glazed and trembling. “Why?”
“Because I’m feeling selfish too.”
It’s as honest as I can be right now. But it’s enough to drive the point home. Annie intakes a sharp breath, stiffening in my arms. Her fingers curl around the fabric of my shirt.
She knows I’m going to kiss her if she doesn’t walk out that door. Just like I’d planned to kiss her in the pool.
She ran then.
Just like she runs now.
Slowly stepping away, she keeps her gaze leveled with the black-and-white checkered floor. At the end of the day, we’re both runners. Like recognizes like. We run to avoid, hide, punish, and sabotage. We’ll either run in circles until it kills us, or we’ll finally be brave enough to stop.
But not tonight.
Annie inches back toward the door, stopping once to look up at me. “I got you something.”
I blink at her, the headache still beating against my temple, warping my vision. The jewels of her dress swirl under the light, glittering and alive.
Hand disappearing into her purse, she sifts around, pulling out a tiny wood-carved keychain. It’s shaped like a guitar. I blink until my vision settles.
Annie heaves in a breath and extends her hand, placing the trinket in my palm.
I glance down, and etched across the front is one word: Hallelujah.
My hand curls around the keychain, centering me and bludgeoning me at the same time.
A mournful smile curves on her lips. “Happy birthday, Chase.”
As she moves farther away, my pulse slams behind my eyes, and the shimmer starts to fracture. The edges of her blur. Her silhouette ripples like a heatwave in the dead of summer.
The lock flicks.
The door creaks open.
A second later, she’s gone.
And I don’t chase her. Not because I don’t want to, but because if I do, I’m not sure I’ll be able to let her go again.
So I stay—hand fisted around her gift, head in shambles, and heart scrambling for beats.
Only this time, it’s not the running that hurts.
It’s the fact that I always let her.